Of Games and Thievery
by renk3r
Summary: Yuugi rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'll never do something stupid like let my heart get stolen." However, his casual comment sounded more like a taunt—to a specific Thief King in particular. Bakura did love a good challenge. AU. Kleptoshipping. YBxY.


**Of Games and Thievery**

* * *

 _Summary: Yuugi rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'll never do something stupid like let my heart get stolen." However, his casual comment sounded more like a taunt—to a specific Thief King in particular. Bakura did love a good challenge. AU. Kleptoshipping. YBxY._

* * *

 **Warnings:**

Yami Bakura x Yuugi Mutou pairing (Kleptoshipping)

Yaoi

Possible lemon, definite limes

Alternate Universe (AU): Normal high-school setting/Non-supernatural

And an endearing splatter of smartass wisecracks—typical of your sassy teenagers. Enjoy! ;D

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Games**

* * *

Bakura's deep laugh seemed to echo down the hall once the other person slipped out of sight. With a scoff and an amused shake of his head, he walked down the hallway, tossing his prize into the air and catching it again.

'So easy,' he thought to himself, far too proud to even feel disappointed at such an easy steal. 'Bless the school uniform and the shallow pockets of girl's skirts.' He flipped the wallet around, examining the fake pink leather with disinterest before opening it up and examining its contents. 'Miho Nosaka, huh—freshman,' he read after taking out a school ID. He smirked to himself. 'Poor baby.'

It was painfully easy to steal from the smaller student. He hadn't meant to bump into her—he hadn't even been paying attention to his surroundings—but when they did collide, he had automatically levelled her with a dark glare. Inwardly, he had enjoyed the look of nervous fear that had suddenly struck her cherubic face. She'd apologised profusely and he'd replied with clipped, scathing comments, making sure that her eyes never left his, before allowing her to scuttle away like a mouse retreating from a lion. When she disappeared around the corner, she hadn't known that while he was holding her attention with his sharp, onyx eyes, his quick fingers had taken something from her bulging pocket.

Bakura's face twisted into a mild scowl when he only counted a few thousand yen in the effeminate wallet, along with various gift cards to women's fashion stores that he would never use. With a scoff, he shoved the notes and a hidden hard candy into his pocket before tossing the wallet behind him, thrown out like trash.

With confident, easy strides, he continued the path to homeroom, hands shoved into his pockets and a relaxed expression on his face. He had already forgotten his most recent, spontaneous steal, his mind preoccupied with the plans of a much bigger, more dangerous heist.

* * *

"Yuugi! Wow man, you look like _crap_!"

"Thanks, Jou. You always know how to make someone feel good about themselves."

His blonde friend snickered and leaned back against his chair. "You were up playing that new COD game last night, weren't you."

Yuugi flashed him a tired, confirming grin. "Surprised?"

"Not in the least," Jounouchi remarked with an amused snort. When his shorter friend sat down in the seat next to him, he reached out and ruffled his tri-coloured hair. Yuugi playfully swatted his hand away and tried to do damage control, but his hair was treacherously defiant and wouldn't tame. Yuugi promptly decided that he was running too low on sleep to care. "You at least do your homework for Maths?"

Yuugi glanced at his friend knowingly. "… Did _you_?"

Jounouchi gave him a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head. "Surprised?" he asked.

Yuugi softly laughed and handed him his homework to copy. "Not in the least," he mimicked, winking.

Jounouchi hollered a cheer and gave Yuugi a half-armed hug, proclaiming, "I owe you one!" before hastily copying down the homework before their homeroom teacher came into the room. Yuugi hummed lazily in response and let his head fall onto his desk, shutting his eyes in an attempt to steal a few precious moments of sleep. He heard a few of his classmates entering the room with their usual boisterous chatter, finding that rather than irritating him, the constant drum of noise was actually relaxing. He breathed softly, his mind still idly running over gun models and terrain maps, and was lost to his current reality until there was a sharp shake of his shoulder.

He jolted up, amethyst eyes wide and alarmed, only to see Jounouchi inclining his head to the homeroom teacher who had just entered the classroom. Yuugi gave his friend a grateful smile and sighed, lightly slapping his cheeks to wake himself up. As they stood up to properly greet the teacher, Yuugi felt somebody looking at him and he glanced to the side. One of his classmates was staring at him and he gave them a quizzical smile in return; after a beat, they coolly looked away.

'Why was Atem looking at me?' he wondered, sitting back down. 'Do I look _that_ bad?' He was pretty sure that Jounouchi was exaggerating earlier; Yuugi often stayed up late to play games and thus he was used to sleep depravity. He usually felt perfectly fine after homeroom ended—his body just needed some time to fully wake up. Was it just more obvious this morning? (Or was it always obvious?)

In any case, he dismissed his classmate's strange behaviour from his mind. It wasn't like he wasn't used to random, peculiar stares from his peers anyway.

Homeroom ended and the students were dismissed to attend their first class. Yuugi walked with his group of friends—Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu—towards the east wing of the building, lagging behind slightly as his friends talked animatedly to each other. He was about to make a remark to the present conversation when he suddenly felt a hand clasp around his elbow. Startled, Yuugi slightly jumped and turned, surprised to see that it was Atem who had grabbed him.

"… Hi?" Yuugi greeted, confused. From his peripheral vision, he saw his friends stall and turn back to see what held him up.

Atem looked at him closely for a beat (which actually made Yuugi slightly uncomfortable; even though they were classmates in a few of their classes, they never really spoke to each other) before letting go of the smaller man. "You look tired," Atem finally said, voice a slightly husky baritone. "Were you up late last night?"

Yuugi's eyebrows rose; well, this morning was just full of surprises! "Um, yeah, I was." He released a good-humoured laugh. "I was up gaming."

There was something strange in the taller man's crimson gaze. It was like he was trying to read him. "Playing Advanced Warfare?"

Yuugi's eyes narrowed curiously. "… How did you know that?" he asked, genuinely intrigued. Now that he was up close to the other student, he noticed that he also sported dark shadows beneath his sharp eyes. Yuugi wondered whether he had a late night as well.

"Your username," Atem said, voice adopting a light-hearted lilt, "is it—"

"What the hell are you two doing?" a voice interrupted, cold and cutting. "We don't have time to chat. We're going to be late for class."

Both Atem and Yuugi turned to the new speaker, Atem much calmer than the shorter one and actually casting an irritated glare at the interrupter. Yuugi seemed to shrink under the stern stare of the intimidating brunette known throughout the whole school as the infamous Seto Kaiba, the student body president and straight-A achiever with the money to be dropped off at school every morning in his family's company limo. Atem and Kaiba were considered to be best friends, the perfect rivals who naturally gravitated to each other, and together with Atem's riches, intelligence, athleticism, and blinding charisma, they were easily the two most popular students in Domino High. Yuugi always felt like a dwarf when he was with them (and not because of the extreme differences in their heights); Yuugi honestly preferred the Kaiba he knew in chess club than the regular Kaiba. Chess-Kaiba he was much more at ease with—as if they were on level, equal ground, instead of the Kaiba who seemed to always tower over him. Atem—well, Yuugi had even less interactions with Atem. The extroverted, massively popular young man was a mystery to him, and possibly intimidated Yuugi even more than Kaiba did. There was always a regal air about him, an untouchable quality—when Yuugi looked at him, sometimes he'd think that he was looking at a king.

"Hn," aforementioned man hummed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine." He looked at Yuugi once more and suddenly bestowed upon him a gentle, uneven smile, breaking the mask of indifference he had been wearing all that time. "Later, Yuugi." Then, without another glance back, he walked away.

Yuugi gaped after him, his attention ripped away only when Kaiba growled, " _Yuugi_ —do you want to be tardy?"

"O-Oh! Right! Sorry, no—ah, right." He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and shot a smile at the unamused student body president. Then, trying to lighten the mood, he couldn't help but blurt, "You coming to chess club later today, Kaiba?"

As soon as the question left his mouth, Yuugi instantly regretted it; Kaiba's eyes narrowed sharply and he knew he was about to be told off for attempting to strike conversation when they had a class to go to, but Yuugi was saved when he felt himself being dragged away.

"Kaiba, pull out the stick from your ass and just _relax_ ," Jounouchi said, rolling his eyes. "We're going, we're going!"

Yuugi sent a meek wave to the irritated rich boy as he let himself be saved by his best friend. Once he was once again with his group of friends, they restarted their way back to class; of course, as they went, Yuugi was victim to their questions.

"What did Atem want, Yuug'?" Jounouchi asked with a quirked eyebrow. Unlike Yuugi, Jounouchi could boast that he and Atem were on fairly friendly terms. They often played for the same team in gym class and they appreciated each other's competence in sports, often exchanging triumphant smiles with each other and sharing jokes. To Jounouchi, Atem was a pretty great guy—he'd actually want to get to know him better, if it weren't for the fact that he hated Kaiba's guts, and unfortunately those two hung out with each other more than Jounouchi was willing to stomach.

"I don't know, actually," Yuugi said with a shrug. "He noticed that I was tired, I guess."

"I didn't know that you and Atem were friends," Anzu said softly. It wasn't a widely-held secret that she had a crush on the aloof, mysterious student—she was one of many who did. The only person who wasn't aware of her affections was probably Yuugi, since he was completely oblivious to all things pertaining to that sort of subject anyway.

"We're not friends—not really?" Yuugi corrected, unsure. "I mean, that was probably the first time we even really talked to each other. The only other times he's talked to me was when I was handing out class papers or something. And that's nothing."

"You should try and talk to him more!" Jounouchi proclaimed, linking his hands behind his head. "He's a pretty fun guy. Down-to-earth, too."

"You're sounding like a fanboy," Honda teased.

That earned him a smack to the back of his head, which consequently triggered a playful argument between the blonde and brunette. Yuugi and Anzu shared an exasperated glance and smiled. As they arrived at their classroom, Yuugi dismissed the peculiar events from his thoughts, trying to focus his easily-distracted mind on quadratics and derivatives.

* * *

When a tanned, golden-haired teenager passed by him and collapsed into the seat opposite him with a loud cackle, Bakura barely gave him a glance.

"Another one!" he hollered. "That was the third one this week!"

"Male or female?" Bakura droned disinterestedly, biting into his steak sandwich.

"Fuck off. It was a girl." Lavender eyes were cruel and glittering with malicious glee. "This one was the best yet, though. The way she ran off crying was _hilarious_."

Bakura looked up and, despite himself, a small smirk of amusement twisted itself on his pale face. "You're a devil," he remarked, not sounding reprimanding at all.

Marik winked. "I'm a heartbreaker, I know." Then he reached into his pocket, frowning. After a tense second, the amusement was wiped clean off his face and he glared furiously at his friend. " _Bakura_."

The white-haired youth chuckled deeply and tossed the phone towards him, uncaring of how Marik cried out and deftly caught the item before it collided harshly against the cafeteria table. "Sorry," Bakura said, tone sarcastic and his eyes shining with mischief. "It was just so easy."

"When did you even—"

"When you walked passed behind me. Seriously, Marik—you should stop having your phone sticking out of your pocket like that." Bakura's grin turned dark. "After all, all that incriminating evidence might fall into the wrong hands."

"Har, har. I'd be intimidated if I actually took your threats seriously," Marik spat, scowling. He flipped his phone open and unlocked it, scanning through his messages briefly before closing it with a snap. "You freakin' kleptomaniac."

"Part of the job description," Bakura smirked. Then his eyes seemed to automatically be drawn to the person who had just entered the cafeteria; it wasn't a surprise that he noticed him so easily, considering that his albino skin and bleach-white hair made him stand out like a lighthouse. Bakura's smile disappeared and his expression turned stoic, watching as the youth walked across the room to join his friends at a table; he was greeted with cheerful smiles. He looked happy.

His Egyptian companion noticed his wayward stare; Marik glanced behind him to see what had caught his attention. He rolled his eyes when he finally located the cause. "People have brother complexes. You have a cousin complex. I think you might need therapy, Bakura."

"Shut up," Bakura growled, tearing his eyes away from his cousin. "I don't care what he does."

"But you do care about how he's doing," Marik said casually, inspecting his nails. "After all," he drawled, giving Bakura a mocking grin, "you're doing all of this for him. Brat should appreciate that you're such a _family man_."

Bakura's glare was dark and his lips curled in a sneer. "Fuck off, Marik. I only do things for _myself_. I'm not fucking Robin Hood."

That induced a cruel bark of laughter from the other, which only served to irritate the white-haired teenager even more. "Christ, I'm only teasing," Marik snickered. "No need to be so serious about it, kitty."

" _Marik—_ " Bakura hissed, just about ready to throttle his partner in crime, but again his attention was violently stolen away. He dropped his warning and stiffened, sharp, onyx eyes narrowed into slits at the figure approaching his cousin's table. Marik immediately noticed the suddenly cold, hostile aura his friend was emitting and turned around; when he did, he fell seriously silent and watched with calculating, cruel eyes the events occurring at the cafeteria table across the room from them.

A tanned, handsome man with tri-coloured hair had approached Ryou Bakura's table. It was Atem Sennen. Already, his presence at that table had caused a stir—he never usually hung out with anybody other than his usual gang, of which weren't anywhere within the vicinity. Bakura and Marik weren't the only ones watching the events unfold; many people in the cafeteria were casting covert, curious glances at them. Why was someone like Atem approaching a table with rather ordinary, plain, unremarkable students? The majority grudgingly assumed that he was there for Anzu Misaki—after all, out of that misfit group, she was the most popular and well-liked.

But it wasn't for Anzu that he was there for. Bakura was too far to eavesdrop on the conversation, but his eyes narrowed curiously when one of his cousin's friends stood up. It was the smallest one of them and he couldn't help but watch as Atem led him away, as if he'd just personally asked for a private audience with him. The smaller man's face was alight with confusion but he followed the tanned man anyway, eyes bright and curious. After the two exited the cafeteria, the rest of the students restarted their conversations with one another as if someone had pressed the resume button on a previously paused video. Marik was still turned away from him, eyes glued to the doors that the two had exited from, and when Bakura glanced at his cousin, he saw him staring worriedly at the door as well.

How very, very peculiar. The questions were nagging away at Bakura's mind, making him fidgety.

"Well, well," Marik finally said, and his voice was deceptively light. He turned back to face Bakura but even then, his gaze was far away. "I wonder what this means."

"Could mean nothing," Bakura snorted, glaring at his sandwich and tearing off a chunk with canine-sharp teeth. He was always in a dangerously dark mood whenever he caught sight of the arrogant Egyptian.

"I don't think so," Marik said, and this time he seemed to draw himself away from whatever mind palace he was previously in and looked at Bakura seriously. "Yuugi Mutou. What do you know of him?"

Bakura returned his gaze coldly. "Who the fuck is Yuugi Mutou?"

Marik rolled his eyes and irritably responded, "The kid he just took off with!"

Bakura wasn't at all surprised that Marik knew the boy's name. The blonde had an almost obsessive need to know the names of everyone; it was probably so that he could exploit them later, in some way that Bakura couldn't fathom. Bakura wouldn't pretend to understand the workings of his crazed friend's mind. "No idea," Bakura confessed bluntly. He couldn't give two fucks about who Ryou hung out with.

Marik wasn't surprised by Bakura's answer in the least. "Yuugi Mutou: bullied extensively in middle school, until he became friends with Katsuya Jounouchi. Quiet, unassuming, average grades. A _major_ game-addict. He's well-liked among his peers and is known in class to be the gaming freak. Member of the chess club. Horrible at sports. He's the typical nerd who for some reason everybody likes. Besides his mild popularity, he's completely unremarkable."

Bakura sat there and stared at him, wondering when the hell Marik was going to make his point.

Marik tapped his chin thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. "There's no reason for Atem to even be _remotely_ interested in someone like Yuugi Mutou." There was a pause, and then a perverse glint appeared in Marik's lavender gaze. "Unless Atem's just looking for another fuck buddy."

His white-haired companion pulled a face. It spoke volumes of complete and utter _disgust_.

"Oh, don't look like that," Marik chuckled. "Mutou isn't bad to look at, in that disgustingly adorable way. I can see the appeal in him." He licked his lips suggestively and the look in his eyes was especially nasty. "He's such a tiny boy—who _wouldn't_ want to break him?"

"You're sick, Marik."

Marik cackled. "Get off your high-horse; you know exactly what I'm talking about. But anyway." He waved his hand and once again glanced at the cafeteria door. "If that's the reason why the bastard has suddenly taken an interest in such a guy, he's in for a nasty surprise."

Now _that_ piqued Bakura's interest. Anything that could potentially cause misery for his most hated enemy always deserved some of his attention. "How so?" Bakura asked, eyes narrowed.

"From what I've heard, Mutou is just as untouchable as Atem is."

Bakura frowned, silently demanding that Marik elaborate.

"He's cute and nice. Girls have asked him out, but he's turned them _all_ down. You'd think he was gay, but apparently he's turned down guys as well. The word about him is that Mutou has _no_ interest in sex."

Bakura couldn't help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped his throat. "You don't _honestly_ —"

Marik grinned wickedly. "Fuck if I know. Kid's a freakin' nerd. Maybe he can only get off with virtual girls."

"Why the hell are we talking about this, anyway?" He did _not_ want to be discussing some random kid's sex life (or lack thereof).

Marik mulled his question over in his head and remained silent. Bakura wondered whether he actually wanted Marik to speak his thoughts aloud or not, and decided to just remain quiet too and wait. Finally, Marik shrugged, but there was still a calculating glint in his eyes as if he was stirring up something diabolical. "I need more information," he said suddenly, standing up. "If my suspicions are correct, I _do_ hope that this is a budding romance."

Bakura had thought it once and he thought it again: he had no fucking idea how Marik's mind worked. With a weary sigh, he glared at the blonde and, with his patience thinly stretched, he asked: " _Why_?"

Marik smirked cruelly. "The untouchable Atem Sennen, romantically getting involved with someone like Yuugi Mutou? Doesn't that just sound _ripe_ with opportunity? He hasn't shown an emotional attachment to anyone we can touch, but if he developed one with _Mutou_ …" He laughed darkly beneath his breath. "Well, that boy is _exploitable._ " He gave a meaningful look to Bakura, who received it impassively. Then, with that note, the blonde Egyptian promptly left, leaving Bakura at the table alone.

The thief churned his parting words around in his head, eyes narrowed. He spotted the boy—Mutou—re-entering the cafeteria, and the gamer's expression had a touch of pleasant surprise on it. Bakura watched like a hawk as he sat down at his cousin's table and, naturally, his friends turned to him and started firing questions that Bakura was too far away to hear but could take a guess at. He remained seated and simply watched them, as if they were a show only running for his own entertainment. He planted his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together, and observed.

His onyx eyes narrowed when his cousin suddenly touched Yuugi's elbow and murmured something to him discreetly. Then the two left the group, walking out of the cafeteria even though the bell for class hadn't yet rung. Bakura stood and followed them, passing through the room unnoticed, as silent as a ghost.

He traced their steps until he could hear their voices coming from one of the school's empty hallways. Bakura stuck to the wall and crept forward until he was just hidden behind the corner, close enough so that he was able to hear what they were saying.

"—concerned, since Atem doesn't usually, you know, pay attention to people like us."

That was Ryou's voice, soft-spoken and polite; right now, it was also revealing a certain tone of anxiety.

"You don't sound like you like him all that much, Ryou," responded another voice. Bakura could only guess that it was Mutou's. His voice was also soft-spoken, but there was a certain lilt to it that differed it from Ryou's. Bakura couldn't quite place it.

"… Well, it's not that I _don't_ like him…"

Bakura's face twisted into a scowl and anger throbbed in his veins. 'Of course you wouldn't like him, you stupid brat,' he thought nastily.

"Then what is it?"

A pause. "W-Well, it's just… I know you don't pay much attention to these sorts of things, so I feel like I should warn you… Atem isn't exactly the nicest person in school."

"Huh?" Confusion.

"He's civil and lots of people like him, don't get me wrong! But, well—he's also kind of… a playboy… I guess."

There was silence.

"… And this has something to do with me because…?"

"Because—ah… I don't know. I just don't want to see you hurt, Yuugi."

A pause.

"… Atem's gay?"

There was a short burst of surprised laughter, airy and breathless. " _Yuugi_." Ryou said his friend's name in a tone that hinted at amused exasperation. "Seriously? Have you been living under a rock?"

" _Ryou_ ," Yuugi whined, and for some reason the sound caused a slight prickling sensation across Bakura's skin. He chose to ignore the reaction.

"Atem's bi. He's dated girls and boys. He's also broken the hearts of both girls and boys. So that's why I want to warn you about him, because I know how oblivious you are to things like this. I… I'm not sure what Atem wants from you—and maybe I'm completely wrong and all he actually wants is your friendship—but, I don't know, I'm still worried that you'll maybe get your heart stolen—"

Yuugi scoffed and for some bizarre reason, Bakura imagined him to roll his eyes. "I'll never do something stupid like let my heart get stolen."

Another pause. "… Then…?"

"Don't worry about a thing, Ryou. I mean, I barely know the guy! And honestly, I'm not interested in that kind of thing right now—you should know this! Besides, what are you even implying? It sounds like you think I'm gay!" Despite his words, Yuugi's voice was light-hearted—actually, he sounded like he was on the verge of erupting into laughter.

"N-No, I don't—I mean— _Yuugi_!"

The hallway was filled with the boy's laughter and Bakura couldn't decide whether he was irritated by the sound or not.

"Shut up, Yuugi," Ryou's pouting, smiling voice drifted through the soft chuckles.

"Sorry, sorry. C'mon, don't worry—Atem can't possibly like me like that anyway. Not a chance." Yuugi's voice was still amused, not a hint of bitterness at all. "Let's go. We might as well head on early to class."

Ryou's bemused sigh. "Alright. Honestly, that's the last time I show concern for you."

"I appreciate it, really, but honestly"—Yuugi's laughter broke his sentence—"you have _nothing_ to worry about. I'm married to my games."

"You're ridiculous…"

Their voices faded into obscurity as they walked away, leaving Bakura alone with his thoughts. He took out his phone and quickly texted Marik.

' **You were right. He wants him.'**

Ryou's intuition was uncanny. If even he suspected something, then Bakura was sure as hell to take this seriously.

His phone blipped.

' **AHAHAHAHA**. **Excellent.'**

Bakura waited for a beat and then he received another text.

' **So how about it, Thief King? You up for the challenge?'**

Bakura snorted and shoved his phone into his pocket without replying.

He didn't need to. Marik already knew the answer.

* * *

Yuugi was confronted by a person who looked jarringly like one of his friends later that day. More specifically, the young man who approached him looked alarmingly like Ryou. He had white hair, just like Ryou's, except it seemed much spikier—wilder, giving it a sort of lion-esque ferocity. His face was sharper too, narrower in comparison to Ryou's softer features, and whereas his friend's eyes were a reserved, honest hazel, this person's eyes were hard and as black as onyx. Yuugi knew this person. He was Ryou's cousin.

Even Yuugi, who made a habit of living with his head in the clouds, knew that he was trouble.

"Yes, I am Yuugi Mutou," Yuugi said carefully, standing his ground. He was alone with the other; the fact that he had been caught when nobody else was around made Yuugi wonder whether this was planned. It was lunch time now and Yuugi had went back to his locker to take out the books he needed for next period, since he wouldn't be returning to his locker after he attended chess club. He'd already told his friends where he'd be and so they wouldn't be out looking for him right now. Yuugi shifted uneasily in place, amethyst eyes glancing from side to side before once again focusing on the intimidating figure before him. 'This feels familiar,' he thought dryly, already expecting the worst and mentally preparing himself for a fight.

"Name's Bakura," the other said, his voice rough with a hint of cruelty. When he smirked, Yuugi couldn't help but note how sharp his canine teeth were. "So, I heard you liked games."

Yuugi quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah…" he said, wary.

"What sort of games?"

Yuugi was still unsure whether this line of questioning, as simple as it seemed, was purely innocent. He tried to relax, telling himself that it was wrong to be biased against Bakura just because of the stories he'd heard about him. "All sorts," he said, shrugging, and allowing a timid smile to grace his features. "Card games, video games, computer games… They're all fun."

"I prefer card games myself," Bakura said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't really see the appeal in video games."

Immediately, Yuugi's eyes widened, as if he couldn't even fathom the thought. "Why not?"

Bakura shrugged. "Don't really own any," he said gruffly, his tone subdued.

And for some reason, his response spoke volumes of honesty to Yuugi. He didn't know Bakura—not personally, not in the slightest—but strangely, Yuugi read the subtle frown on his otherwise uncaring face and the forced impassive intonation in his voice as sincerity. He tilted his head to the side and gave Bakura a small smile. "Why did you want to talk to me, Bakura?" he asked, not a hint of hostility in his words—just curiosity and wary friendliness. "Did you want something?"

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I want something?" he suddenly said, his voice cutting.

Immediately, Yuugi lost his easy smile and he waved his hands in front of him, afraid that he'd insulted the taller teenager. "N-No! It's not that!" He pouted and frowned, saying, "It's just that we've never really talked before…"

"That's because we've never had a reason to talk to each other before."

Yuugi quirked his eyebrow. He was pinned beneath the intensity of Bakura's gaze and he wondered why his mouth suddenly felt dry. "And the reason for it now…?" he inquired quietly, his body tense.

There was a beat, and then Bakura took a step towards him. Immediately, Yuugi took an instinctive step back and was startled when his back collided with a wall of lockers. The predatory gleam came back into Bakura's eyes and Yuugi gulped, his heart beginning to race.

"I'm interested now," Bakura bluntly answered, taking his hands out of his pockets; then, without warning, his hand suddenly shot out towards Yuugi's face. The smaller boy let out a squeak and flinched, expecting a hit and jumping when there was a loud, rattling bang just by his left ear. He opened his eyes and found that Bakura had him pinned against the lockers, his left fist just beside his head, trapping him there. The taller boy loomed over him and Yuugi's mind whirled—

This was new.

None of his past beatings had ever started out like _this_.

The atmosphere was strange, something that he wasn't used to in the slightest. The taller teenager was much too close to him and there was a bizarre _heat_ in his dark, black eyes that made Yuugi simultaneously squirm and be afraid to move. Despite them being in an open hallway, the space around them seemed to have shrunk; Yuugi's field of vision consisted only of Bakura and his mane of white hair and the way he wore his school shirt, exposing a pale, slender neck—

He stared up at him with wide eyes, confused, bewildered, uncertain and lost—and then Bakura smiled a crooked smile and when he spoke, Yuugi could feel his breath on his face—

"I want to play a game with you."

And then Bakura swooped down and kissed him.

Yuugi's eyes widened and he stood there, completely and utterly shocked, trapped against the school lockers by a guy he barely knew. Dry, thin lips were pressed against his own insistently, disabling him from breathing, from moving, from _thinking_ —his mind, dulled with lack of sleep and overexertion, simply stalled like a rusty, old car refusing to run anymore.

He completely froze.

Then a chuckle pierced through his empty thoughts and Yuugi finally had the mental strength to tell his body to _shove_ —

Which he did. Forcefully.

He pushed Bakura away from him with a strength that surprised even himself. Once the contact between them was broken, Yuugi could finally breathe; his gasps were heavy, breathless, and his face was flushed—

Not because of embarrassment, but because of _anger_.

"What the hell!" he yelled, amethyst eyes ablaze with indignation and heat. Now that his mind had finally caught up with the situation, he could feel the adrenaline running through his veins, making him hot and flustered. He only had two hours of sleep last night and he couldn't handle the emotions flowing through him, and thus it resulted in him being default _pissed_. "Bakura! What was that?"

The taller teenager smirked at him and Yuugi stiffened at the fact that the same heat was still smouldering the depths of his coal-black eyes. "The start of our game," Bakura simply said, grinning like the devil with laughter in his voice.

"What kind of game involves you _kissing_ me!"

"Apparently, a game you've never played before," Bakura countered smoothly. "Which is a shame. It can be quite fun."

Yuugi's overly-taxed mind couldn't process Bakura's words or the signals Bakura's expressions and body was sending him. " _Bakura_!"

But the other only laughed, loudly, and the sound made Yuugi shiver. "Mmm, scream my name again?" the white-haired youth requested, his voice an octave deeper.

Yuugi gaped at him, uncomprehending of _anything_ , much less Bakura's sexual innuendos.

"Don't worry," Bakura continued, amusement clear in his onyx eyes. "I'll fill you in on the rules later. Don't you have some place to be, Mutou?" He flashed Yuugi another sharp-toothed grin and turned, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

"Wait a minute, Bakura…!" But Yuugi's words remained unheeded and he could only watch as Bakura slipped out of his sight around a corner. Yuugi's feet were planted firmly on the floor; for some reason, he didn't feel inclined to follow him.

And even though he was gone, Yuugi found that he couldn't relax one bit. His body was still tense, ready to fight or flee, and the echo of Bakura's deep, coarse voice saying his name was still resounding in his ears. Yuugi shook his head and frowned, reaching up to touch his lips and then dropping his hand as if it burned him. The flare of anger that had been raging inside him before slowly dulled to make way for bewilderment and curiosity. In the back of his mind, he knew he should still be mad—still be _indignant_ and generally pissed off, because Bakura had stolen his first kiss. But Yuugi dismissed the idea—he didn't care for sentiments like that—and instead, his mind chose to focus instead on this _game_ that Bakura proposed to him.

Yuugi adored games. He was addicted to them.

His eyes narrowed and, from the depths of his mischievous, competitive heart, a small, excited smile began to form on his face.

He couldn't help it—

Even though he didn't know what the game was, didn't know the rules or what the end-goal entailed, Yuugi wanted to beat Bakura.

He wanted to win this game, and Yuugi was confident that he could.

Games were his Achilles heel, and yet also his forte—no matter the shape or form. He'd win this and make sure that Bakura would think twice before challenging him to a game again.

* * *

Bakura chuckled to himself, tossing the wallet up into the air and catching it deftly. He opened it up and took out the school ID.

'Yuugi Mutou,' Bakura thought, reading the ID. A deceptively cherubic face peered at him in the photograph, the smile sinfully innocent. 'Untouchable, huh?'

He grinned darkly to himself.

'We'll see about that.'

* * *

 **Chapter 1: End**


End file.
